


Kisses on Ice

by Crazy_little_witch



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of a Case, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Ice Skating, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 02:46:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10562124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazy_little_witch/pseuds/Crazy_little_witch
Summary: In the aftermath of a case gone wrong, Sherlock's desperately in need of a distraction. And John knows just the right thing to brighten the mood.And maybe, he's about to get more, than he's been looking for.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My second work... whoop whoop... and it took me ages to write and translate it. As I'm not a native Speaker, there might be mistakes, but feel free to let me know.
> 
> I love London in the winter time, especially the ice rinks and the wonderful decorations. Being there last December, this Story popped up into my mind and I finally sat down to finish it.
> 
> I hope, you'll like it! All kudos, comments and critics are welcome.
> 
> Enjoy!

It was a cold winter afternoon just before Christmas and it already darkened. Sherlock had finished his last case that morning, but instead of being on the usual post-case high, he lied motionless on the couch, one of his dark moods raising its ugly head once again. The culprit was caught, but they were too late to save the kidnapped girls. John was no genius, but he knew the other man well enough, to know, that the detective tortured himself with repeating all the facts in his head over and over again, to find the one clue, the small little piece, which would have allowed them to find the children in time.

John couldn't stand it any longer. Decision made, he stood and went to the door. No sound came from the couch. He put his shoes and coat on, before he took Sherlock's coat and scarf and threw it on the other man. "Umpfh..." Sherlock groaned silently, as the heavy Belstaf landed on his stomach. John saw his flatmate blinking fast, as the detective tried to orientate himself. "Come on, get up! I need some fresh air and you'll accompany me." The tired man, who slowly sat up now, had no resemblance to the otherwise so energetic consulting detective. "John..." Sherlock whined, but he only shook his head. "No! No discussion! Up you get!" He gave Sherlock his shoes. "Put them on." Tilting his head to the left, John watched with a lifted eyebrow, while Sherlock put his shoes on. John knew, that the younger man tried to stall their departure, but the ex-soldier was determined to get Sherlock out of the house. Finally he nodded happily, took his keys and purse and let the way down the stairs. "Will you at least tell me, where we're going?" He sounded exasperated.

"Nope! Wouldn't be a surprise, would it?"

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

John enjoyed the cold wind on his face, while he glided with steady steps over the ice. It's been too long, since he last had the opportunity to stand on skates. As a teen and even later during university he had loved it to relax on the ice. It was in those moments, that he really could let go of all the problems and stress in his daily life. Maybe he should start exercising again. Reminiscing, he did some laps, before he looked around for Sherlock.

The other man stood by the rink and stared disgruntled at the people around him. John shook his head in mild amusement. Sherlock was incorrigible. He turned, to get to Sherlock before all hell, in form of one annoyed consulting detective, broke loose on the unsuspecting bystanders. When did the exasperation about Sherlock’s quirks gave way to the affection now surging through his whole body?

Just before he reached Sherlock, he turned around and slowed down, so he came to a stop with gentle thud against the rink, right next to his best friend. The blades of his skares left deep traces on the ice. “Show off!” With a glint in his eyes and a wide grin on his lips he looked up to the detective. “Look who’s talking!” he laughed. Sherlock pouted briefly, before joining in John’s laughter. “Where have you been? I thought you said we should skate together?” He asked, when he had taken a steadying breath.

Their eyes met and held each other. Sherlock sobered up and turned, so he could directly face the doctor. “Yes, well… I-I just… I... wanted to… ehm… That is to say… Thank you, John!” It was an unusual sight, seeing Sherlock struggle for words. John’s heartbeat accelerated dramatically. Affection? Who was he kidding? He was head over heels in love with this impossible man! He almost missed Sherlock’s next words, reflecting his own emotions. 

“It’s been a long time, since I stood on skates, although I always loved it. So I guess, what I mean is… thank you, John, for giving me this!” An honest smile, which the detective only ever addressed to him, got him weak in his knees. The doctor hoped, his burning cheeks were concealed by the blinking lights or that Sherlock would perceive it as a reaction to the low temperature. “Of course, Sherlock! You’re my best friend!” And so much more, John thought. He shrugged his shoulders. “To be honest, I just hoped, it would distract you from the case. AND you like dancing, so I figured you might know how to skate as well.” Sherlock nodded to John’s rambling words. John opened his mouth to say something else, but the words didn’t want to come out. He closed his mouth again and took a deep breath. “Yes?” Sherlock looked expectantly at the smaller man. John noticed him staring at his mouth. Slightly embarrassed, he coughed and tried it once more. “Well, I also thought, it might be more…” his voice softened and finally died away...

“John?” Sherlock seemed to loose his patience rather quick. John mumbled something and hoped he wouldn’t have to repeat himself. He felt his skin flush even harder then before. “Could you… John, please…”  
Sherlock Holmes was begging him? Oh my… John moistened his suddenly dry lips. Before he could talk himself out of what he was going to do, he got on the tips of his toes and leaned into Sherlock to kiss the lanky git. But before their lips could touch, the other man suddenly slipped on the ice and crashed in the ex-soldier. 

John heard a surprised grunt, but couldn’t determine the source. His arms had instinctively closed themselves around Sherlock’s narrow waist to keep him standing, while his friend seemingly tried to upset both their balances with his struggling. “Sherlock, what the…? Damn it,… stop!” With both hands on Sherlock’s hips, he pulled the detective impossibly closer and cradled him to his chest, till Sherlock had settled down. He could feel Sherlock’s hectic breath on his skin, stroking lightly over his neck, and felt goosebumps on his arms. They’ve never been that close to each other. The detective’s lips ghosted warm and gentle over the sensitive skin behind his ear. John gulped hard. He had to remember where he was, before he did something stupid. Getting aroused on an ice rink while surrounded by kids, for example.

As Sherlock had calmes down, he disentangled himself slightly from John to be able to look down. With a deep sigh he pressed his face once more into John’s neck. His mumbling was barely audible. “Girl, 4 maybe 5 years old, parents divorced, the father took her here. She wanted to impress him, but got reckless. When she became scared, she grapped the first thing she could… in that case, me… Right?” The last words were directed at the little girl, who still clung at him with a desperate look on her face.

John let go of Sherlock and looked down at the miserable little girl. The kid tried to stand up, but her skates instantly slipped away. The sudden jolt down was almost enough to pull Sherlock on the ice as well, hadn’t he foreseen the movement and clasped John’s shoulder. Smiling, John looked up at his friend. “In her place, I’d also preferred you to the rink.” The other man chuckled, while John flushed bright red. Even his ears felt hot. To hide his embarassement, he got down on his knees to be on eye level with the child. She sniffled a bit, but otherwise tried not to cry. 

“Hi, sweetheart. What’s your name?” He helped her up and pushed her gently in the direction of the rink so she could adhere to something more stable than Sherlock. “Katie…” Now, she did start sobbing. Sherlock, who had followed them silently, kneed in front of her as well, and waited till she glanced at him. “Hi Katie, here take this.” He handed her a tissue, which she ignored in favour of her sleeve. John could see the bewilderedness in the other man’s face, before he could hide it. “Well,… ehm… I’m Sherlock, and this…” he pointed at John. “… is John. He’s a doctor!” A shy glance through her eyelashes to John, before she refocused on Sherlock. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head. John was relieved. To avoid to startle her, he slowly swiveled her around, facing the ice, where he had seen a young man hurrying in their direction. 

“Look who’s there, Katie. That’s your dad, isn’t it?” She abruptly lifted her head and beamed at the approaching man, the tears completely forgotten. “Papaaaa! Did you see me skating?” As he arrived at the little group he fell on his knees, and scanned her frantically for any injuries. The shock over the almost accident still ingrained in his pale face. “Oh my god, I am so sorry! Are you hurt, Sir? Katie, god, you scared me! Are you ok, sweetheart?” It took several minutes to calm the man down and reassure him, that everybody was fine. When they were finally on their way, Katie still babbled about her adventure.

By the time John and Sherlock were alone again, awkward silence spread between them. How should they continue now? John frowned. Sherlock, who had looked after the departing Katie and her father, still stood with his back to the doctor. Taking a deep breath, John prayed he wasn’t about to do the biggest mistake of his life. His heart raced. Preparing himself for a rejection and with more bravery than he actually felt, he reached for the detective’s hand. Eyes widened in surprise, the tall man turned at the touch. “John?” “Sherlock.” Both had started to speak, but stopped immediately. John looked down at their joined hands and cursed himself. Why was it so damn difficult? Were they were really both too british, to speak comfortably about their feelings? “God, Sherlock, look at us. What are we doing here?” Sherlock’s deep laughter warmed him. The words a reminder of a memorable visit to the Palace a long time ago. He looked up again. The blinking lights let Sherlock’s pallor look even more ethereal and angelic than usual. “Ok, the heck with it.” The detective mocked him with a raised brow, but the doctor decided to let all doubts go.

With one arm around Sherlock’s slender middle, he reached the other up to place his hand around Sherlock’s neck and pull him down. He stopped shortly when the tips of their noses almost touched and he could feel Sherlock’s breath on his lips. He wanted the younger man to have the chance to retract, to give his consent to what was about to happen. John hoped Sherlock wouldn’t ask him to stop. He would, of course, but he was desperate to finally feel his mouth on his. When his friend showed no sign of protest, he closed the remaining distance and their lips finally met in the first of hopefully many kisses. 

Just a gentle touch of closed lips, than, a gasp as John drowned in the delicious and overwhelming scent of Sherlock. He couldn't remember a time when he ever felt such happiness. But the happiness only lasted a short time. When Sherlock failed to reciprocate the kiss, John almost felt his heart stopping. Did he gauge the situation wrong? Did he just lose everything? „Oh god, Sherlock, I'm so sorry..." he abruptly let go of the other man. The noises and music around them pounded in his ears like thunder. The bitter cold stung his skin and seemed to creep through his whole body up to his heart. He panicked. Tears welled up in his eyes and threathened to fall. 

„John! Breathe!“ Warm, strong hands turned his face back to the younger man. Before he knew what happened, hot lips pressed against his lips and stilled. John froze, unsure what to do. Just as Sherlock began to retreat, John came to his senses. Carefully he lifted his hands to cup the other's man cheeks, and initiated another gentle kiss. He didn't how long the kissed, before they came up for some air. With a moan, Sherlock opened his mouth slightly and John felt like drowning. Under his persistent tongue Sherlock's mouth opened further and he tried to coax the other's tongue to join their intimate dance. A passionate plea, Sherlock complied with. John could feel Sherlock's long fingers ran gently through his short hair. His skin prickled whereever the other man touched him. The sensations let him shiver. God, how he loved this man!

Sherlock froze and struggled to breath. With a hand on Sherlock's shoulder, John gently guided him back to arm’s length, to see why he stopped. Sherlock looked awestruck. "John, John... I... I l-love you too!" The doctor burried his head in Sherlock's chest, not yet able to realize that he finally could held him in his arms whenever he wanted.

"Really, Sherlock? In the public? Bit of a cliche, isn't it? What would Mummy say?“ Mycroft's smug voice broke the bubble, they enjoyed their happiness in. John felt Sherlock's muscles tensing under his hands. "What do you want, dear brother?" he snapped at his older brother. „Since when do you deign to mingle with the masses?“ Mycroft's grin froze and started to resemble more a grimace than a smile. 

"Oi! Not in front of the kids!" Rolling with his eyes, the politician stepped out of the way. Only now they saw who stood behind Mycroft. "Hi Greg!" John greeted the DI. "Lestrade, what are you doing here? What happened? Is there another case you've failed to..." Sherlock tried to push John away, his mind already somewhere else. "Sherlock...! Dammit...!" John could just catch him in time, before the detective could vanish. He pulled him back, till the other man stood at his side once again. Greg's children, who stood beside him, giggled at Sherlock's antics. "Sherlock. Sherlock, stop it!" Sherlock's reaction to John's captain voice never ceased to amaze the ex-soldier. He calmed down immediately. "I don't think, Greg's here, because of a new case, Sherlock." 

"What do you mean, "not for a case", what else should he..." Sherlock got stroppy. Exasperated, John hinted at the kids. Sherlock's face feel. "...oh... hmm... right..." As excited as he's been, when Sherlock figured out, that there was no new case, his elation burst like bubbles. Sulking, he pulled at John, who still stood beside him, until the smaller man stood with his back to Sherlock. Then he wrapped his arms round John's stomach and put his head on the other man's shoulder. Stunned, John let the mandhandling happen. It seemed, now that Sherlock was finally allowed to touch him freely, he mutated to a cuddler.

Greg tried to hide his laughter behind a cough. „Yes, well... anyway, we'll leave now. Bit of a distraction can't hurt after such a shitty day.“ Although a shadow fell over his eyes, when he remembered the events of the last hours, his grin broadened once again. „John, pub night tomorrow?“ John was thankful, that his friend didn't break out in roaring laughter at the surely exceptional sight, and nodded. Even Mycroft seemed a bit happier, observing his little brother clinging to the smaller man. Their eyes met and Mycroft nodded in approval. With a last glance at Sherlock's locks he turned and walked to the glass building beside the rink to hire some skates. The kids ran after him screaming in pure excitement. Greg still smiled knowingly, while the looked back and forth between the two men, till he finally stopped in favour of looking at Sherlock instead. „It was good to see the two of you! I'm glad you finally figured it out.“ Sherlock's response consisted of a low hum. Over his head, John and Greg shared a gentle smile. Holmeses... „I'll call you, Greg!“ Greg waved his goodbyes and left, turning in the same direction as his family to join them.

„You're ok, Sherl?“ John stroke lightly over the younger man's arms, which embraced him tightly. A deep grumble vibrated through John's whole body. It was a sound he desperately wanted to conserve, memorize for the rest of his life. „Are you happy?“ Another low hum. John closed his eyes and enjoyed the quiet moment. He knew with their way of living, those would always be rare.

He didn't know how long they already had been standing there, when he started to really feel the cold. He opened his eyes and looked around. Their sourroundings had significally calmed down and only a few people stll defied the low temperatures. On the other side of the ice rink John could see Sherlock's brother and his family. 

„They look happy!“ Mycroft had one arm slung around the DI, both watching Greg's daughter, who tried to teach her little brother how to drive backwards. They all smiled quite happily. 

Sherlock raised his head. He followed John's gaze and nodded. „Yes, they do.“ He nestled further into John and for a while they watched the small family together. „Shall we head home?“ John was freezing by now. 

„Yes!“ 

Sherlock took his hand and together they left the ice rink. 


End file.
